


Not a Moment Too Soon

by ciara_jane



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 15:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciara_jane/pseuds/ciara_jane
Summary: When Rose is injured, the Doctor will not leave her side.





	Not a Moment Too Soon

**Author's Note:**

> Not even sure where this has come from. Something-something words.

Rose slid down the wall, exhaustion taking her; it had been a few hours of solid fighting and this momentary pause in battle was so welcomed. “Just a breath…” she panted, eyes closed as she forced swallows of saliva down her throat. “Just a few more… Can’t be too many more…”

She wanted to believe the lies she fed herself, but it seemed nearly impossible. Smoke made the air thick and she slid down further, in hopes that some clear air along the floor could be found. After sliding her back along the floor moulding, she found a pocket of air and took a breath, trying to ignore the dizziness. The room went dark moments later.

What felt like an eternity later, Rose regained consciousness; the med bay’s stark white walls and medicinal scent shook her awake. She wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been out, but it was long enough she’d been picked up and brought to the TARDIS, and – considering she could breathe again – re-oxygenated. Rose opened her mouth to speak but found her throat too dry to make a sound. Her clothes seemed to have made it out, though her jeans sported several tears (she silently laughed that Jackie would call them stylish), though in dire need of a wash. She might need to track down a new jacket, though, as she couldn’t seem to find hers. Other than her dry throat, she only felt a bit of residual soreness all over. _Could’ve been much worse… probably was…_

Even her movements and gasped breaths didn’t seem enough to rouse the room’s other occupant. The Doctor was sat on a stool alongside the table where she lay, his fingers woven with her right hand, cheek laid against them and eyes closed. _How peculiar_ , she mused, taking the moment to survey him in this position of quiet vulnerability. Smudges of gunpowder and dirt crossed his face and neck, and stained his green jumper. His jacket, haphazardly in a puddle on the floor, looked worse for wear; darker bags than she remembered tinged the skin below his eyes, and what looked like hastily wiped away tears still in the corners of his eyes highlighted his exhaustion. _He hasn’t been sleeping, has he… how long has it been?_

Rose resisted the urge to turn slightly on her side, now sure he was asleep; her left hand slowly hovered from the other side of the table, debating if she should touch him, stroke his short hair, the only part of him she could reach. She was relieved of the choice as his eyes fluttered open, blue eyes slightly watery as he jolted awake. “Rose?” he murmured, sitting up when he noticed her gaze intently focussed on him, her hand hovering in the air.

“Loud,” she croaked, hand moving to her throat before miming a glass of water.

“Loud?” came the reply, before, “Ah, of course, still not back to normal. Quite a noisy skirmish wasn’t it?” he continued, voice somehow quieter but still loud to her sensitive ears. “Water… water… ah here.” The Doctor seemed loath to step away, untangle their hands, but reluctantly did so to retrieve the water. The broken connection was soon rekindled, in the form of helping her sit up to drink properly (or, at least to spill the least amount of liquid on her). One hand held her upright as she sipped the water, grateful for it, his other hand tangled with hers holding the glass. 

“What… what happened?” she asked, a bit fearful of what she’d learn.

“Kholderi, those dust-based lifeforms. Never seen so many a’ once, or come on so fast,” he said, setting the glass aside as he stood beside her, Rose’s body weakly collapsing against his. “Never seen tha’ much smoke b’fore either.” He sighed. “You were out almost a week. Was so worried…” Rose sniffled, absently leaning into the sensation of his hand stroking the loose strands of her hair. “You alright?”

Rose nodded, eyes closed as she weakly grasped his jumper in her left hand, burrowing her face into his chest. “I lost—sight of you,” she said, unwilling to admit she might have lost him in the whole thing. “How did you find me?”

“Jus’ b’fore the ceasefire… did y’hear the screaming?” She shook her head; had to be after she’d blacked out. “Well no matter. Was a huge explosion, didn’t know until too late the gas released, poisonous to you humans. When I couldn’t hear your running b’hind me…” He stopped, and Rose let the words sink in. “I thought _I_ had lost _you_ ,” he admitted, voice so soft even Rose almost couldn’t hear it. “You were slumped against a wall, thought I could’a thrown you ‘gainst the thing and you wouldn’t’a stirred,” he rambled. 

“Sorry,” she coughed, and he reached for the water automatically. After another sip of it, “Was hard to breathe in there.”

He seemed not to hear it. “Rose, d’you know how worried I was? You were just in a pile on the ground. I was sure for a moment there I’d get another slap from your mother if I had to tell her I’d gone and gotten you…” The Doctor’s voice dipped slightly in tone before abruptly cutting off. “She’s not someone I want to cross again y’know.”

_Well, at least I know he’d make sure I made it home_ , Rose mused, trying to pass the morbid thought quickly. “But you found me, Doctor.”

“And not a moment too soon,” he said, straightening up a bit, the concern, the worry not yet absent from his voice. “How’s the hearing?”

She shrugged, an awkward gesture given her face and right shoulder remained against his chest. “Not so… loud but going back to normal I think.” The Doctor nodded at that, reaching to put the now-empty glass on his abandoned chair in favour of wrapping both arms around her. “Thank you,” she mumbled into his chest.

The snort that rumbled his chest sounded quite loud in her ears. “You’re back, safe, tha’s all tha’ matters,” the Doctor answered, burying his face in her hair. “What you need is a shower, when y’r able to stand on your own.”

Rose grinned at that. “Could be a while, Doctor, you could, y’know, give me a hand.” His arms around her briefly tightened. “Good thing Jack’s not here, he’d jump at the chance.”

“He can sod off.”

“Sounds like someone’s a little jealous.”

“No, he knows you’re mine, mine as long as you’ll let me have you,” he corrected. “But I know that tone of yours, and we’ll never make it _out_ of the shower if I help you.” She looked up, his eyes twinkling. “And that shower and seein’ ‘f anythin’ else’s sore is first priority.” He dropped a kiss to her forehead, arms slowly coming down from around her, catching her hand in his and kissing the knuckles, lingering for a long moment.

“Then what,” asked Rose, “food? Another adventure?”

He rolled his eyes. “If you’re set on another adventure so quickly that’s on you. I’d been thinkin’ more a long, restful sleep.” 

Rose pursed her lips a moment, holding his gaze. “If by restful you mean—”

“I’ll shag you senseless first.” The tone of growled annoyance only barely masked both his relief for her safety and the need to reclaim her, remind his head he truly hadn’t lost her – neither of which were lost on Rose.

She nodded, with some assistance hopping down from the table and venturing some unaided steps. “You’d better do the same, then… half an hour?”

The Doctor opened the door to the room, after scooping up his jacket. “Only that long cos you’re injured, Rose. “ He turned, grinning at her over his shoulder. “See ya in twenty-five then, love.”

"Maybe twenty?"


End file.
